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We go through this everyday. I walk down the academy hallway, and she appears out of nowhere. A single arm stretches in front of me, striking the locker beside me, stopping me in my tracks. Sometimes I want to duck under her arm and keep walking, just to see what happens. She pushes her face in close to mine as I turn to face her, unphased by her familiar sneer. I step back, obediently putting my back against the locker as she towers over me. Her mouth moves, but I've heard it all before, so I just tune out. Probably calling me a nerd. Teasing me about something small, like my hair or my clothes. I glance down. I dressed cute today. Even my underwear- Right. The underwear. My mind cycles through my favourite pairs, trying to recall which one I'm wearing now. Before I can remember, she's grabbing my shoulder and pushing me around. My cheek slaps against the cold metal locker, and I let out a sigh, feeling her hands slip down my skirt. I don't clench my butt as her fingers curl around my waistband. Today, I want to feel the pain. It starts with a strong pull up my back. The waistband digs into my belly, sliding up out of my skirt from the front while the back is pulled up. I inhale sharply, curling my toes as she pulls my underwear hard enough to lift me onto my tiptoes by the thin line of fabric between my cheeks. We're going through the motions, as we've done so many times before. I stare at the locker door while she wedgies me. Dark blue. Metal. To her, it's like lifting weights. Maybe this is her workout routine. She must see me as some kind of spotter. Chasing me through the hallway was her cardio workout. Pulling my underwear was her weightlifting. Watching me struggle and then blush as I pulled out the wedgie was her cooldown before the next exercise began. Shoving my head into a toilet was the water break. Yesterday, pull ups. Today, dead lifts. Tomorrow, arm curls. She holds my panties at my shoulders for a few more seconds, long enough that I can distantly hear her laugh as she shows off my underwear to everyone around. Pink panties. White waistband. A pattern of small chibi kittens. Not exactly something that I wanted to show off, but if I had to have my intimates exposed like this, I was glad it was at least a cute pair. Or maybe I should start wearing plain, boring pairs. Then there would be nothing to look at. Hell, by now everyone's probably seen my underwear so many times that there was already nothing worthwhile to look at. She lets go, and I feel the sting of my waistband striking my lower back. I stumble forward, catching my balance while she says something from behind me. Teasing me, probably. Making fun of my kitty cat underwear. She's just jealous that she doesn't have cute kitty cat underwear. What's even the point, I find myself wondering. I would normally pull out my wedgie at this point and then beg her not to hurt me anymore, but today, the wedgie felt dull. My underwear is bunched up around my waist; big deal. I don't even feel their eyes on me. Everything feels grey. "Come on," I hear myself saying. "Stop wasting my time." She looks at me, dumbfounded. This isn't what she expected. It isn't what I expected either, but I'm glad that I said it. Something finally felt real. Her face twists viciously, and she grabs my arm again, twisting me back around. I don't struggle. She grabs my stretched out waistband- another pair of panties that won't fit me when she's done unless I want them to keep playing Peekaboo over my skirt- and she kneels down. I hang my head, staring down at the floor. Grey tile. Pink shoes. I close my eyes, scrunching up my face as the underwear cuts into me again, and my feet leave the floor for a second as she rockets up, her arms heaving me into the air by my underwear. My feet dangle uselessly over the floor, and I hear faint laughter from all around me. You'd think that this joke would stop being funny by now. I open my eyes and my feet firmly pound the floor as she throws me back down, keeping my panties stretched high in her grasp. I feel her hand grab my hair, and she pulls my head back. I see my own name, written on my underwear tag, just before it's pulled over my forehead. I close my eyes again as she reaches over me, her arms over my shoulders as she pushes the underwear down over my chin, and when I breathe, I can smell the cotton fabric. I open my eyes as she pushes me forward, and I find my head wrapped in my own panties. Pink panties. White waistband. The faint outlines of stretched out kittens. Blonde hair, pushed flat against my face. The tightness between my cheeks brings me back down to reality. The front of my panties rub against my poor cooch, sinking deeper inside as I settle into the atomic wedgie. She grabs me in a headlock, whispering into my ear. I don't listen. What does it even matter? She drops me, and I fall to my knees on the floor. I can't see her, but I hear her footsteps walking away. I reach up, grabbing the waistband over my chin, and peel it up enough that my underwear slides up over my face and hooks over my forehead. Okay... now my panties are over my head. Now what? I can just take them off. I can pull the wedgie out, just like I've done every day whenever she gets a hold of me. What was even the point of our routine? Why did she see me with my undies not lodged deeply in my crack and decide that there was some wrong that had to be righted? Why did anyone else bother to watch me now and not look at me whenever I wasn't being humiliated? Maybe they were just thankful that it wasn't them. I don't even bother pulling the underwear off my head as I slowly rise up to my feet. I can see, and that's what matters. They've all seen me like this before. What would one more time matter? I painfully waddle down the hallway, already bored of the burning feeling riding up high between my cheeks. I keep my eyes forward as I walk. Grey faces, all around me. Grey lockers. Grey floors, grey walls. I glance up, seeing it just at the top of my vision. White waistband. Pink underwear. Ever present pattern of kitty cats.

Kaguya-sama: Love is War Wedgie Free Zone by Magni Author's Note: Contains spoilers through Season 2. I like to think this could take place at any point between the second half of Season 2 and the end of Season 3. Miko Iino is sick of wedgies The student council room was glowing gold in the afternoon sun when Miko Iino pushed the door open. She meekly looked around, her cheeks puffed out and glowing red. At first, she thought she was alone and exhaled in relief. She was used to walking in on strange scenes in what was supposed to be a very serious room for very serious student council business, but luckily there was no sign of the President or Vice President today. Just when Miko thought she was safe and stepped inside, she realized that she wasn't alone. Chika Fujiwara sat up from where she'd been lying on the couch, holding up a book and kicking her feet energetically. Miko tensed up and her cheeks burned even hotter, if that was possible. Before she could escape back into the
Jessica let out a long groan, crossing her arms in a pout and glaring over at her siblings. Stephanie smiled happily as she set up the tripod for the video camera. Lily had a large notebook with her, flipping through the pages intently. Marco simply played on his phone, probably happy that he for once wouldn’t have to put ice on his butt for a week. “Do I really have to do this?” Jessica asked, sass clearly in her voice. Dressed in short shorts and a tank top, her curly blond hair let down and flowing in the cool breeze. Jessica had looked forward to enjoying this warm spring day. It was her favorite season, and they had endured a handful of chilly and rainy days due to a cold front. Finally the weather had cleared up, but then this mess had to happen. “You lost the bet, sis~” Stephanie said matter of factly, taking great pleasure in just setting everything up. The anticipation was killer her. “You shouldn’t have underestimated our little pipsqueak.” Marco crosses his arms, as he knew
“This is so stupid,” Martha grumbled under her breath. Her fingers clenched around the steering wheel. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
The countryside of rural Indiana whizzed by outside the window of the small blue Toyota. Corn, corn, more corn, sometimes a bit of wheat, and if Martha was lucky, a fenced patch of grass with a few cows that stared blankly up at her as she sped by. This was the worst.
“I heard the mission bell,” the radio blared the mournful voice of John Henley. “And I was thinking to myself, ‘This could be Heaven or this could be Hell.’”
“Defi
Short story for 's "In the Moment" Challenge wherein you write the POV of a wedgie victim while the wedgie is happening! He wrote a girl actually writing down her thoughts from the top of a flagpole, I chose to write a simple inner monologue. How you do it is up to you! RULES: 1. Add the challenge name, summary, and rules in the description. (please, to make it easier on others) 2. Have fun. (required) 3. Nominate more people! (optional) I nominate whoever wants to do this challenge! >:3 It's a really fun idea, definitely give it a shot if you have the time!
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i loved the story but man that chartered seems really depressed

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